


Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?

by Zhie



Series: Eagle's Ridge University [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Français | French, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Morning After, practicing safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Everyone's favorite Professors spend the night together, and it is tres magnifique.  Following their first night together, Erestor and Glorfindel spend some time getting to know each other -- and getting interrupted by their supervisors.
Relationships: Erestor/Fingon | Findekáno, Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien), Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Series: Eagle's Ridge University [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1008549
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while, hasn't it? No, I don't know why now or why this, but the muses have spoken. 
> 
> Thank you to AndiiErestor for checking my French and Narnvaeril for checking my English.
> 
> Enjoy!

The concerns once they reached the bedroom were twofold. “I don’t think I have any viable condoms,” Erestor announced, completely practical and logical, yet wishing the words need not be said. “I have to be really careful not to compromise my immune system.”

“Even if you had them, I think that might be a little much for both of us,” said Glorfindel. “I can assure you I am clean, but, I respect you, and I am glad to know younger men still take the epidemic seriously. I am not a bit insulted if you want me to get tested before we take that step.”

“I should probably get tested, too.” Erestor sat down on the side of the bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand to sort through the flotsam there. “I mean, I have a lot of blood tests anyhow, I think it might have shown up...maybe. I think that one has come up a few times. Always use a condom, though.” He found one package that appeared to be a college giveaway from the wrapper, but it was expired, so he tossed it into the trash can. “Still, not fair not to. I mean, if we get there.”

“Honey, we are down to our drawers in your boudoir,” said Glorfindel. “We are no longer at ‘if’, but ‘when’. Unless…”

Erestor nervously raised his brows. “Unless what? And you realize a ‘boudoir’ refers to a room belonging to a lady, right?”

Glorfindel plopped down on the bed next to Erestor and rubbed his hand in a rather friendly motion along Erestor’s thigh. “I thought it was just a fancy French bedroom.”

“Je t'aime tellement, que c'est dur de me concentrer sur autre chose que toi.”

“Oh, fuuuuuck me…” Glorfindel laughed, snorted, and fell back onto the bed, legs still draped over the side. He sat back up after a moment to glimpse Erestor’s self-satisfied smile. “What did you do, spend a gap year in Paris?”

“No, but I did go to Québec once.” Erestor closed the drawer of the nightstand. “Unless what?”

“Hmm?”

“You were thinking of something. You have a question.” 

Glorfindel nodded. “I have a theory based on observations of other men in clubs and at pride events and how I have watched you act.”

“You have my full attention.”

“I fear I might insult you.”

Erestor fiddled with the alarm, settling it a little later than he normally would. “Tu ne m'insulteras pas.”

“Oh, I have no idea what you are saying, but it hardly matters because it’s fucking French and you can probably make ‘go fuck yourself’ sound pretty.”

“Uh…”

Glorfindel grinned. “Did I stump the doctor?”

“Well, there is ‘va te faire foutre’, which is multi-purpose. But I would never say that to you. For you, oui, but to you, non non monsieur.”

“God, I just have to kiss you after that.” Glorfindel made good on his promise, and within a few moments, he had coaxed Erestor to straddle his lap. They were still wearing their slightly damp underwear, and for Glorfindel, this was only partially due to the rain.

It was just as Glorfindel was going to pull them both onto the bed that Erestor reminded, “Unless what?”

A little groan escaped Glorfindel. “You have a really good memory.”

“Mmmhmm.” Erestor licked and kissed up the side of Glorfindel’s neck. “Unless what?”

“Unless my hunch is wrong,” Glorfindel moaned as he tilted his head back.

“Which is?” Erestor nipped Glorfindel’s shoulder, but barely used any pressure, as if giving a hint of the future.

Glorfindel rested his hands on Erestor’s hips. “Someone like you...super dominant. Like in the restaurant. You are commanding, even in the bedroom.” As Glorfindel spoke, he began to roll his hips, and Erestor, with his hands on Glorfindel’s shoulders, closed his eyes and started to grind against Glorfindel as he listened and nodded. “You like to have control in every situation, including love making. But in the end, after all the sweet words and sexy talk, all the demands and commands, you only want one thing.” Glorfindel stretched to bite at Erestor’s earlobe and flicked his tongue along his neck. “You want to be fucked, but you want to ride it out on your own terms. Don’cha?”

“Oh, God, yes.” Erestor grunted and blushed, and kept rocking against Glorfindel. “Fucking condoms,” he muttered as a droplet of sweat rolled down his cheek.

“Fucking is what condoms get used for,” Glorfindel teased as he leaned in to chew along Erestor’s ear. “Fuck me, you are so sexy. Sexy intellectual,” he drawled. He received an affirmative moan. “Say something dirty in French,” growled Glorfindel.

Erestor rose up on his haunches, bringing their mutual pleasure to a temporary halt. “I give the orders here,” he said sternly.

A delighted, wolfy smile graced Glorfindel’s lips. “Yes, sir,” he answered. 

After licking his lips, Erestor lowered himself back down. He did not immediately return to their previous activity, for now he ran his fingers over Glorfindel’s hair. When he reached the tie that held his hair back, he unfastened it and tossed it aside. As he ran his fingers through Glorfindel’s golden mane, he murmured, “Why do all of my boyfriends end up having long hair?”

“Mmm...I like the sound of ‘boyfriend’ better than all those French words.”

“Est-ce que tu es aussi doux que tes yeux?”

Glorfindel whimpered, hands still on Erestor’s hips. “This is incredibly unfair. You have French to use on me, and I know nothing to use in return.”

“I bet you know at least one French sentence,” argued Erestor. “Surely you have heard the song  _ Lady Marmalade  _ at some point.”

“Yes. Oh!” And Glorfindel cleared his throat and proudly recited, “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?”

Erestor grinned and chuckled.

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes. “Wait...what did I just say to you?”

In a soft, low voice, Erestor whispered to Glorfindel, “You just asked if I wanted to have sex with you tonight.”

“You tricked me!” scolded Glorfindel playfully as they both laughed about it. But Erestor was still on Glorfindel’s lap, and they were both hard, with only two layers of thin fabric between them, and both of them sweating. “Well?”

With a longing look directed at the waste basket, Erestor said with discontent, “Stupid condom. Expiration dates are probably just a scam.”

“No. Never play around with those,” Glorfindel said, serious for a moment. “Too many of my friends, just… trust the dates. Not worth it to chance it.” He stole a kiss before Erestor deflated too much. “So, would that be a yes?”

“Yes,” admitted Erestor with a tremble.

Glorfindel stretched to bite at Erestor’s other ear. “I have some in my wallet downstairs.”

Erestor pulled back to stare at Glorfindel with wide eyes. “Downstairs?”

“In my--whoa, careful, there,” cautioned Glorfindel as Erestor half slid and half leaped off of Glorfindel’s lap. “In my pants. Left pocket. Not because I was hoping or anticipating, just because good practice--and I did not tell you sooner because I did not want to rush with you--I mean, not that this happens for me a lot, or I was not hoping...just that--”

Erestor came back to kiss Glorfindel soundly. Once they were both a little calmer, Erestor ran his fingers along Glorfindel’s cheek. “Voulez-vous coucher avec--”

“Yes. Oui. Please.” Glorfindel sloppily kissed Erestor’s neck up to his ear. “My cock is rock hard for you. I wanna slide inside of you, baby,” he murmured.

Erestor slid a hand over Glorfindel’s cheek again. “A response like that must mean you really enjoy being a shy top.”

“So much,” groaned Glorfindel at the thought.

“Be right back,” promised Erestor. He paused at the door and said, “J'ai confiance en toi,” before he ran down to retrieve Glorfindel’s wallet.

\---

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” asked Fingon as a man about the same build but more than a foot taller than him passed by with a fistfull of keys.

Turgon King turned on his heel and spun to face his brother. “Sorry. Missed you down there,” he said in a tone that belied his taunt. “Botany instructor called in. I had to explain four times that it is Spring Break, and he does not have to be here. He seemed really worried that he might get dismissed, and even more concerned about the plants. I told him I would look in on his greenhouse, but no one has a bloody key for it.”

Fingon tilted his head to the side. “He say what he had?” he asked with concern.

“Not my place to ask unless they call in three times in a row or have an FMLA form,” stated Turgon as he swung the keyes side to side. “Then I need to go and settle a dispute over a coffee pot.”

“Salgant and Geraldine?”

“At least neither of them are terrorizing other people. If you will excuse me.”

Fingon watched Turgon stroll down the hallway, appearing like a model on a runway as the LED lights overhead caught movement and brightened the path. His suits were tailored, always black, shoes polished, ties pressed, and not a single hair on his head ever so much as swayed. With a sigh, Fingon glanced at himself in the reflective glass of a classroom door. He adjusted his collar, which poked out from under a sweater he had pulled on after getting out of his car and noting the dip in temperature that had not registered when he rushed off to work that morning from the heated garage.

Then he recalled his earlier unrest, and headed down the hallway to take an elevator to the level where he would find Erestor’s office. When he reached the door, he knocked, waited, knocked again, saw that the room appeared dark beneath the door, and got out his cell phone as he started to pace.

  
  


On the nightstand, Erestor’s phone began to vibrate as it announced a call with the mellow voice of Whitney Houston. 

_ If I should stay, I would only be in your way _

_ So I'll go, but I know _

_ I'll think of you every step of the way _

Erestor bolted up and grabbed the phone before the song could continue. Beside him, Glorfindel groaned at the loss of contact and moved in Erestor’s direction to wrap an arm around his waist. “H-hello?”

  
  


Outside of the office, Fingon stood up straight and kept his voice low. “Are you alright? Glorfindel called in sick. You’re not out sick, are you? Do you need soup? I can have Mae bring you food.”

Erestor stretched one arm over his head and yawned. “M’fine.”

“Did I wake you up? You overslept--it’s 10:48.” Fingon started to pace again. “Are you sure you are not sick?”

“Who’s on the phone?” mumbled Glorfindel sleepily.

Fingon froze, scrutinized the phone, and then hissed, “Is he there with you? Did he come home with you last night?”

“You...think I would bring someone home on the first date?” Erestor placed a finger to his lips as he looked down at Glorfindel, who was watching him, golden hair messily spread out on the pillow, and Erestor mouthed Fingon’s name. Glorfindel grinned. “I sent you an email to let you know I would be out today.”

A custodian came around the corner wheeling a trash cart, and Fingon smiled and waited until he was alone in the corridor again before he returned to the conversation. “If he’s not there, Facetime me.”

“Most certainly not.”

“You’ve never denied me,” said Fingon. “He’s there, isn’t he?”

Erestor frowned at the bitterness of Fingon’s voice. He looked down at Glorfindel, perplexed from the single side of the conversation he was hearing. “Here. It’s for you,” he said, handing the phone to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel rolled onto his back with the phone, scratched his head and asked, “Hello?” There was silence. “Hello, this is Professor LaFleur.” He looked at Erestor and shrugged.

Erestor took the phone back and looked at it. “He must have hung up.” He set the phone back on the nightstand.

“Interesting ringtone for your boss,” remarked Glorfindel.

“I keep meaning to change that.” Erestor settled back into bed.

Glorfindel waited until Erestor was comfortable and then asked, “He’s your ex, isn’t he? The one you mentioned last night when we were talking about past relationships. The guy from college. The one you broke up with--well, he broke up with you, five times, was it?”

Erestor frowned and looked at the ceiling. “Yeah.”

With a low whistle, Glorfindel gave his opinion. “That has to be fucking weird.”

“It’s only as weird as we make it,” said Erestor. “Does it bother you, knowing who it is?”

“Actually, no, because I remember him mentioning something about a son and a partner, so now I don’t have to worry about him showing up and stealing you away from me.” Glorfindel curled around Erestor. “How about  _ Fifty Ways To Leave Your Lover _ ?”

“What?”

“New ringtone. For your...boss-ex. Oh, no, don’t let me say that again, that just sounds like ‘boss sex’ and I don’t need to give you ideas.”

Erestor snuggled closer. “Sex with you is better than sex was with him,” he said quite clearly. 

“Oh...well I like hearin’ that. Experience’ll do that, you know.” Glorfindel smiled, kissed Erestor’s head, and then said, “I probably am older than him.”

Erestor bit his lip. “You are.”

“That sounded very confident.”

“I...happened to see your...credentials last night when I was getting the condoms from your wallet,” admitted Erestor. 

“Ah. And?” Glorfindel barely breathed and barely moved, save for his eyes, which were looking to his side where Erestor lay.

“Honestly? Initial thoughts?” Erestor ran his toes along Glorfindel’s leg, trying to reassure him while he decided what to share. “First thing I thought was, I cannot believe I fell for a sexy, outdoorsy army daddy.”

Glorfindel chuckled at Erestor’s descriptors. “And yet, here we are.”

“And then I thought, should I thank you for your service? But, no, then that means you know I saw what was there...and then, as long as it was there--”

“Oh, you didn’t just look, you spied,” accused Glorfindel, but he was still smiling.

“I mean...you did tell me where to find the condoms. Maybe I was innocently looking at your military ID while I searched for the condoms.”

“My wallet is four things, cash, and condoms. If you had that much trouble finding the condoms--”

“I mean, it has been a long time, it’s possible.”

There was a pause and then Glorfindel said, “It’s a horrible picture.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Doesn’t look like me.”

“Your hair might be shorter, but your eyes don’t change.” Erestor rolled over so that he could get closer. “Can I ask about it?”

Glorfindel squirmed a little. “Depends which parts.”

“Only the parts you are comfortable sharing.” Erestor ran his fingers over Glorfindel’s torso. “Do you know what I teach?”

“Uh...something well beyond my pay scale,” Glorfindel joked. “Something liberal arts, humanities stuff. I never nosed around, and you never said, so…”

“Mostly, history. Military history is my specialty.” Wistfully, Erestor said, “I wanted to be in the military when I was a kid. I wanted to go off to war and protect my country. I guess it seemed oddly romantic or something. I was a weird kid.”

At this, Glorfindel shook his head. “No...no one wants to go off to war, not after you see war. Protect freedom, sure.” Glorfindel swallowed hard. “Help others, yeah. I did a lot of that. But...not the war part. War sucks.” The break in discussion was solemn, so Glorfindel added, “The food tastes like crap, everyone wears the same thing, and sometimes, there’s a scorpion in your bed.”

“Hmm. Sounds like my childhood, except, no scorpions. You were overseas?” Erestor asked.

“Yeah. Twice.” Glorfindel heard Whitney’s voice coming from the nightstand, but he pulled Erestor closer, and they were serenaded until Fingon gave up trying to get someone to pick up on their end. “How much older am I than he is?”

“Uh…” Erestor closed his eyes. “About...seven years? That sounds right.”

“Huh. So, from what you told me last night about your ex being a little older than you when you started college, because you were a freshman and he was a senior, that makes us...about ten years apart?” guessed Glorfindel.

“Sure. Go with that,” agreed Erestor. 

Glorfindel gently tilted Erestor’s chin in his direction. “How old are you?”

“A lady never tells her age,” quipped Erestor.

“Yeah, well, you are no lady, and you already saw mine,” Glorfindel reminded him. “C’mon, it’s only fair.”

Erestor sighed. “My birthday was last month. I turned 34.”

“Holy shit.” Glorfindel rubbed his eyes. “I really could be your daddy.”

“Barely,” defended Erestor. “Besides, I like older men. They're the only people mature enough for me.”

Glorfindel was ticking off fingers. “February of ‘84,” he deduced.

“February 15th,” offered Erestor.

“Happy belated birthday.”

Erestor snorted. “Thanks. So, what did you do in the army?”

“I was a combat medic.”

“Did you have a rank.”

Glorfindel belched quietly, head turned away. He coughed and looked back to Erestor. “I did. The one I held the longest was Sergeant, but near the end of my service, I ended up as a Captain. During the end of the time, I was serving in a hospital-type facility.” He suppressed another belch. “A lot of things happened rather quickly. I did better in the field, because I didn’t have time to think about what was happening. It was triage and keep blood from flowing and set broken bones quickly and stay out of the line of fire. Stationed, it was just…” He shook his head. “It was a lot. It was surgery, and seeing faces, and learning names, and having them die on me after talking to them about their kids and their mothers and…” Glorfindel’s breathing was becoming labored. “I need a break from this. Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course. What do you want to talk about?” asked Erestor.

“You.” Glorfindel propped himself up on his elbow. “How are you a tenured professor, and a doctor at that, at 34?”

“Oh, that.”

Glorfindel laughed. “Yeah. That. You are some kind of genius, aren’t you?”

Erestor shrugged. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“I’d love to know more about you,” said Glorfindel honestly.

Propping himself up so that he and Glorfindel could face each other while still lounging in bed, Erestor said, “Well, I was born into a big family. I had six older sisters and three younger ones, and we lived on a compound, which was a fancy name for ‘cultland party house’. We were all homeschooled and very religious, and everything was about praying for things, no matter what. Two of my older sisters died before I turned ten, and I knew I was sick the way they had been. We were driving in one of the church vans one day, going to some weekend bible study thing the next state over, some big thing my parents were into, and there was an accident. The van flipped a couple times, and then there was chaos. We all ended up in different places, different hospitals. While they examined me, probably one of the people with the least injuries from the crash, they discovered my cystic fibrosis. So then, I had a name for the devil inside of me.”

“Christ,” muttered Glorfindel. “Your parents never took you to a doctor before that?”

“No, because all things through the Lord, Amen. Don’t get me wrong--it’s not like I full on ditched everything I was taught to believe in, but, y’know, when you have trouble breathing your whole life, and then you end up thinking you’re going to die and go up and meet Jesus, and then you end up in a place that’s white with bright lights and people who are telling you it’s okay, and you’ll be fine, and they make you feel better--shit, Glorfindel, I seriously thought that hospital was Heaven until I knew what was going on.”

Impulsively, Glorfindel reached out and drew Erestor into an embrace. “See, I hear this, I think, sure, I went overseas to try to help, and yet, there’s so much going on here that needs fixing, too.” Erestor accepted and returned the hug and they cuddled for a while. “So when you found out it was a hospital and not the afterlife, then what happened?” asked Glorfindel, loosening his hold so that they could see each other again.

“Alright, so, I was twelve when all of that happened. I was old enough to explain my situation. They brought a social worker in, and she asked me about home and what my parents were like, and that was when someone told me what a cult was--maybe not the best thing to throw at a preteen under a lot of stress with a chronic condition,” admitted Erestor. “I spoke to a lot of other people from protective services. I had one sister who also told them some things, but when my mother finally ended up at that hospital, my sister suddenly said all the things she told them were untrue. I stuck to the story--I could not remember a time when I felt better in my life, and I was not going back to a world I was sure I would die in. The state got involved; we had made it across state lines, so it was two states. I soaked up knowledge as fast as I could. I had a lot to catch up on to try to save my life.”

“And obviously you did,” said Glorfindel in awe.

“I was fortunate. CPS could have just turned me back over to my parents. Instead, they dragged their feet and got court orders to keep me at that hospital. The daily treatments were helping immensely. Instead of feeling as if I was always gasping for my next breath and having to be carried everywhere by a parent or older sibling because I couldn’t manage on my own, I could walk--though I had a little mini walker just to help steady myself, and I could talk, though, not as much as we are doing now,” he said.

Glorfindel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sounds like you were fighting your own war,” he said.

“I had help. My parents sued CPS and the hospital, I was appointed a lawyer in the midst of it. That lawyer was very, very good. She knew all about some new laws that had made it through in California that allowed emancipation of minors at age 14, because my parents were going to fight for custody no matter what, but if I got myself out of the situation, that was different. The lawyer helped me set up a trust and we got sponsors and the staff at the hospital did these fundraisers, so that the medical bills could get paid and so, if we could get me to California, and get through the system, I would not be up shit creek.”

“But, wait--you were in California?”

“Not then. I was still at the hospital where I was taken to when the accident happened. California was close, though,” said Erestor. “Now, all that time--I was studying everything. I mean, everything. It was a children’s hospital, and they had a few teachers there, I think because of the cancer ward, but I worked through everything and I managed to get caught up and then kept going. It gave me something to do, honestly. And I found out about a place in Palo Alto that had opened recently. It was a pediatric hospital, and one specialty was cystic fibrosis. The doctors had determined I was in serious need of a lung transplant, and CPS petitioned the courts to let them transfer me to the hospital in Palo Alto. I was so scared--I thought my parents would figure it out, but the night the ambulance took me, I felt like Moses leaving Egypt.”

“I’ll bet,” was all Glorfindel could add as he listened with great interest.

“By the time I got to California I was 14, and right away, that lawyer got my petition in for emancipation. It ended up on the news; my parents were furious. They went back and forth between demanding I come home because they loved me and declaring I was like Judas, and...it really got to me. I…” Erestor paused. “Maybe I need a break.”

Glorfindel reached out and squeezed his hand. “What matters is, you made it through. You survived.”

“Yeah.” Erestor looked down. “Of course, for me to survive meant someone else had to die. She was fifteen. Riding her bike after dark and a jeep came around the corner and hit her. She was barely alive when she made it to the hospital in Merced. Her name was Ernestine Jo, and she was from Planada, and she had to die so I could live.”

Glorfindel stroked Erestor’s cheek. “Don’t think of it like that. Think of it like, the two of you…” Glorfindel ghosted his fingers over the scar on Erestor’s chest. “Some of us have more time than others, right? And sometimes, when something like this happens, we have the choice to mourn only what could have been, or to celebrate...this.” 

Erestor reached out to wipe away Glorfindel’s errant tears. “I do, and I am.” He waited until Glorfindel stopped crying, though the rest of the story caused Glorfindel to tear up again. “I got to meet her parents after I was out of surgery. She was an only child, and her mother had had uterine cancer, so they had no plans for another child. They helped me a lot, and they visited me a lot, and I don’t think I would have done as well as I have without them. So, once the court saw that, while I was going to be emancipated, I kind of had this support from this family, I finally managed to legally get myself away from them. The first thing I wanted to do was change my name, leave that old life behind. So I did. Erestor is my homage to Ernestine. My middle name is Joseph. My old name was biblical, so it seemed right to have something from my old life that I did like. And I still call and write to and visit the Sullivans as often as I can. I’ve been calling them mom and dad since I was sixteen, because it just felt right--and, they told me, since part of Ernestine lives on with me, I am welcome to call them that, and they send me cards like this.” Erestor reached into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a birthday card. The words ‘To Our Son’ were on the front. He slipped it back into the drawer.

“I just knew you were going to tell me that was their last name,” admitted Glorfindel, who was soaking the pillow with tears now. “Just...I think I need to hold you right now, more for my sake,” Glorfindel said.

“You may,” was Erestor’s calm reply. He dried a few more tears from Glorfindel’s face before they embraced, with Glorfindel clinging to Erestor. “That’s why I’m such a son-of-a-bitch when it comes to grading,” said Erestor. “I have a lot less sympathy for excuses like ‘I thought you said it was due next week’ and ‘I forgot my textbook in my locker over the weekend’.”

The phone rang again, singing out in Whitney’s voice. At the same time, someone pounded on the entry door downstairs.

“That’s weird,” remarked Glorfindel.

Erestor sighed. “No. That’s Fingon. Excuse me. Keep the bed warm for me?” he requested as he extracted himself and went to the dresser.

“Do you want me to answer this? Or the door?”

“No. It’s him. I can do it.” Erestor pulled an undershirt over his head and walked back to the phone. He pressed the green button on the screen and instead of offering a greeting said, “Hold on,” and hung up.

Glorfindel rubbed his eyes. “The two of you certainly have a strange relationship. Exes, superior and subordinate, and...that,” he said as the phone rang again. “Can I please change your ringtone?”

“Absofuckinglutely,” grumbled Erestor as he finished a pair of sleeping pants from the back of a drawer. “If I am not back in ten minutes, send reinforcements,” he said as he left the room.

A minute later, Erestor opened the door to find Fingon on the other side, furiously texting. “You rang?”

“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” Fingon said as he let himself into the house. “Is he still here? Did you take your meds? Did you eat? Did the cat eat?” Fingon placed his hands on Erestor’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely. So much better now that I have been roused from my nice, comfortable bed to come answer the door for you. You have a fucking key--if you were that worried, you could have let yourself in.”

“What if I’d have come in to find the two of you fornicating in the living room?”

“Then I guess you would’ve seen I was fine and left,” retorted Erestor as he crossed his arms over his chest. “On the other hand, if--look, why are you here?”

“I was worried about you.”

“I am fine.”

“Is he still here? Turgon said he called in sick. Is he sick? Is he wearing a mask around you?”

“No; I’m not into that.”

It took Fingon a moment to connect the comment to what he had said. “Wise ass.”

Erestor smirked.

“I just want to make sure you are okay.”

Erestor sighed and shook his head. He gave Fingon a peck on the cheek and said, “I am fine, he is well, I took my meds, the cat is fine, you can go home. Or back to work. Or whatever it is you do when you’re not making housecalls that interrupt cuddle time for other people.”

“So he is still here.”

“Hello.”

Fingon and Erestor both looked up to see Glorfindel at the balcony that overlooked the foyer they were standing in. He had a pair of Erestor’s pajama bottoms on, and because of his height and size, they left part of his lower leg exposed and were very form fitting, leaving little to be imagined. “Uh...hello,” said Fingon. He appeared to be rethinking his decision to show up unannounced. 

Glorfindel smiled and then turned his attention to Erestor. “What do you think of Gloria Gaynor?”

“Who?” asked Erestor.

“That answers that,” said Glorfindel, who was holding Erestor’s phone. He swiped his finger over the screen. “What about Fleetwood Mac?”

“Aren’t they old?” asked Erestor. “Did you break into my phone?”

Glorfindel swiped again. “You said I could change this...and I guessed your pin. Did you know, home address is one of the common pin combinations people use. What are your thoughts on Kelly Clarkson?”

“I at least know who she is,” Erestor shouted up.

“Do you want me to leave the two of you alone?” Fingon asked.

“Actually, yes,” Erestor said as he looked back to Fingon. “I will try to be in tomorrow.”

Fingon raised a brow, but did not ask for clarification. “I see,” was all he said on that matter. Upstairs, Glorfindel leaned against the wall and made adjustments on the phone. “Uh...look, I was just worried when you stopped answering, and I wanted to say I’m sorry I was so invasive earlier.”

Erestor’s brow furrowed. “And you thought, this was less invasive?”

“I was worried! And I am sorry,” repeated Fingon. “I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to have dinner tonight. My treat. Both of you,” he added as he looked up at the balcony. 

Erestor looked up at Glorfindel, who frowned for a moment, and then said, “Maybe you could, uh, give us a call in about ten minutes. After you leave.”

“Sure, sure.” Fingon headed back to the door, and paused to ask, “Are you going to pick up the phone?” of Erestor.

From the balcony, Glorfindel called out, “As long as you aren’t late in calling. We’ve got heavy petting scheduled in fifteen, and straight-up mind-blowing sex at noon.”

Erestor’s shocked expression went unseen by Fingon, who only lifted his hands up with palms out and backed out of the house. Erestor shut and locked the door. As the sound of the engine of Fingon’s car was heard, Erestor slowly looked up at where Glorfindel stood. “What the fuck was that?”

Glorfindel placed his empty hand on the railing of the balcony. “He was jealous, and...maybe I was feeling a little of that myself. Just...felt like I had to mark my territory or something.”

Erestor’s hands were on his hips. “Mark your territory?”

“Fuck. No. Not what I--fuck. That sounded a lot sexier or something in my head.”

Erestor rubbed his temples and then ascended the staircase. “Gay men are the biggest fucking drama queens,” he muttered before he snatched his phone away. Using the phone in place of a pointer, he shook it at Glorfindel’s nose. “I am not territory to be marked,” he said sternly.

“Yes, sir,” answered Glorfindel. “Won’t happen again, sir.”

“Better not,” Erestor snapped, though his resolve was waning. Seeing Glorfindel in nothing but a tight pair of pants was giving him too many ideas. He turned the phone over in his hand a few times, and then in a tone that attempted to be playful, said, “Drop and give me twenty.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Glorfindel stepped a little closer, which made Erestor uncertain for a moment. Then, the older man lowered himself to his knees, hooked his thumbs in Erestor’s pants, and yanked them down to his knees. He looked up for permission, and Erestor, eyes transfixed, gave a nod. Glorfindel used his left hand to hold Erestor’s penis steady, and his right to count, holding up fingers as he wrapped his lips around the head and took Erestor into his mouth over and over in a fluid fashion. By twelve, Erestor was hard; at eighteen, the phone rang.

“Son of a bitch!” shouted Erestor as Glorfindel settled back on his haunches and laughed. And after those reactions, the voice of Kelly Clarkson could be heard.

_ But since you been gone _

_ I can breathe for the first time _

_ I'm so moving on _

_ Yeah, yeah _

_ Thanks to you _

_ Now I get what I want _

_ Since you been gone _

“Except I don’t, because you keep calling!” Erestor scolded the phone. It looped back to the beginning of the ringtone, and he lowered himself down so that he could give Glorfindel a very sincerely passionate kiss. “Well. Let’s see what mother wants, shall we?” Erestor tapped the green dot and turned the speaker on. “Please tell me you’re driving back to work and not still in the driveway.”

“I didn’t want to call and drive,” came the answer after a pause.

Glorfindel, disbelieving, walked to a window and peeked out. As explained, there was Fingon, in the driveway, pacing next to his car. “Wow,” was all Glorfindel mouthed.

“Just a moment.” Erestor hit the mute button on the phone. “I promise, he’s not a psycho, he just seems like it sometimes.”

With a smile and a shake of his head, Glorfindel came back to sit down on a little bench against the wall of the hallway while Erestor pulled his pants back up. “I called in sick; if we go out to dinner, and my boss happens to come by, I don’t think that’ll be professional.”

“Hello? Hello?” came Fingon’s voice over the phone. “Are you there?”

“It’s doubtful Turgon would show up, but that makes sense,” agreed Erestor. “I would suggest he bring takeout here, but, well, you’ve seen the place.”

“If we’re being honest--I don’t want him coming back in here for a while. It’s your house, yes, of course, and this is...not even a full day since our first date,” realized Glorfindel, “But…”

“Yeah. I...yeah.” Erestor cleared his throat. “This is nice,” he said as he waved a hand between them. “This is oddly comfortable for how short a time we’ve known each other.”

“Hello? I think we lost connection. I’m calling back!” came Fingon’s voice over the phone, and then the call disconnected.

“Holy shit,” muttered Erestor as he looked at the phone. A moment later, the ringtone started again. “By the way, this is well-played,” he said as he lifted the phone.

Glorfindel smiled. “Thank you. I had a feeling you weren’t going to pick the disco song.”

“Ew, is that what those others were?”

“Just one,” said Glorfindel. “Better answer it--especially if he has a key.”

“Shit.” Erestor answered the phone. “Fingon, I think we’re going to have to pass. Glorfindel called in, and if Turgon or someone else from work--”

“What if you came over to have dinner with Mae and I?” suggested Fingon. “I really want to make it up to you.”

“Then maybe go back to work?”

“But, dinner.”

Erestor hit the mute again and looked up at Glorfindel.

“I mean--we are going to have to have dinner either way,” said Glorfindel. “I just…who is Mae?”

“Fingon’s spouse.”

“Oh! Oh, then, yes,” declared Glorfindel. “Mae needs to see how he’s acting, so she can get him to simmer down.”

“Actually--”

“Hello? Hello? Did you hang up on me again? Hello?”

“Oh, bloody hell.” Erestor unmuted the phone. “If we come over, we are coming after dark, and we are not staying terribly late.”

“Of course.”

“That means no impromptu three hour concerts to share your latest music,” warned Erestor.

“Reasonable. And thank you. And...any dietary restrictions I should know about? Allergies? Dislikes?”

Erestor looked up at Glorfindel.

“Pescatarian,” said Glorfindel.

“Sorry--didn’t quite catch that. You’re presbyterian?” questioned Fingon.

Glorfindel came closer, shaking his head. He leaned in and said, “I only eat fish and vegetables, but not shellfish.”

“What, are you Jewish or something?”

“Yeah,” Glorfindel said quietly.

“Oh. Huh. So...it has to be kosher then, right?”

“Well...no, I can manage my way around most things,” Glorfindel said, almost sounding embarrassed. “Look, it’s not a big deal, so I can--”

“No, no. I like a challenge. I can take care of this. Does seven work?”

Erestor bit at his lip and looked at the obvious unease Glorfindel was feeling. “Maybe we should do this on the weekend,” he said.

“Really, it’s fine. Look, I’m getting into the car now,” said Fingon (and Glorfindel checked through the window to make sure the statement was true). “I’ll see you at seven. Okay? Just come on over. I can handle this. I’ll see you both then. Okay?”

Erestor stared at Glorfindel, who nodded. “Okay,” said Erestor.

“Great! See you tonight! Bye!”

“...bye.” Erestor hung up and fiddled with the phone. “We can give it an hour and then I can text him and cancel.”

“No. I’m not going to do that. Not unless you want to.”

Glorfindel came back over from the window. “No, I was thinking, you know what would be fantastic? A third date, with your ex, in his house.”

“I’m just going to call him now,” amended Erestor as he unlocked his phone.

“No. Text, maybe, call, no. He already managed to get almost forty minutes of our time today,” said Glorfindel. He went to the bedroom door and beckoned Erestor. “My cock wants to pick up where we left off, but my brain is telling me we should maybe talk a little about parameters--especially as they pertain to ex lovers who still have keys to your house.”

“He has the key to take care of the cat in case something happens to me,” Erestor explained, but he followed Glorfindel to the door and said, “And he did this the last two times I brought someone home.”

“Oh, no, we are changing your locks. I know how to take care of cats,” swore Glorfindel. “And I’m not just saying that to find a way to weasel a key out of you. That is some unhealthy relationship, pardon me, bullshit, going on. I can tell the two of you still want to be friends, but it all feels like you are still a couple where one party went off and got married, but you never broke up.”

Erestor nodded.

“I’m sorry. I’m probably far overstepping my boundaries, and compromising whatever our relationship is right now, but after everything you told me about your parents, and your life--maybe this is going to sound condescending, but I feel like someone should protect you, and…” Glorfindel scratched his nose with his thumb. “And I don’t think it should be him.”

“Who should it be?” asked Erestor as he backed Glorfindel into the bedroom.

“If you happen to be taking applications, I’ll send you my resume.”

“I don’t want your resume,” said Erestor as he pushed the door shut. He also locked the door for good measure, and turned back to see Glorfindel standing in front of the bed. Erestor pulled the undershirt up over his head.

“What do you want, then?” asked Glorfindel. 

“Depends.” Erestor looked at the nightstand. “How many condoms are left?”

Glorfindel reached for Erestor’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I’d still like to have a conversation with you about...well, everything.”

“We can do that,” said Erestor slowly. “Did you want to do that now?” he asked. And then, he leaned in to kiss along Glorfindel’s neck and say, “He might be the one blowing up my phone, but you’re the only one who’s blowing me.”

“How long did you--”

_ But since you been gone _

_ I can breathe for the first time _

_ I'm so moving on _

_ Yeah, yeah _

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Erestor grabbed the phone, hurriedly shut it off, deposited it into the drawer, and shut it. 

“Thank God.” Glorfindel plopped down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his forehead. Erestor sat down beside him. Glorfindel turned to look at Erestor and said, “I swear, if you had answered it, I think I might have walked out of here.”

Erestor stroked Glorfindel’s cheek. “Please don’t go. He means well. I’m not trying to defend him--”

“But you are,” Glorfindel pointed out. He took a deep breath. “Maybe I’m just old-fashioned.”

“I kind of like that, though,” said Erestor. He placed his hand on Glorfindel’s thigh. “I should never have answered the phone. I’m sorry.”

“Well, he was at the door, and he does have a key,” Glorfindel said. “It’s not your fault. So, if we do dinner, either I need to go back to my place for clothes, or the ones I have here need to be washed.”

“Third option.”

“What’s that?”

Erestor pulled the phone out of the drawer and Glorfindel frowned. “I text him and tell him I forgot about a prior engagement--”

“No. I hate lying to people.”

Erestor put the phone back in and shut the drawer. “Sorry,” he said after a long silence.

Glorfindel tapped his foot on the floor. “Erestor, I like you.”

“I like you a lot, too,” said Erestor sadly. “But this isn’t going to work, is it?”

“Well, not if we don’t give it a chance it won’t,” said Glorfindel. “I really hope that was just something you were going to do because you are trying to put me more at ease, and not because it’s habitual.”

Erestor closed his eyes. “Severe temporary lack of judgement.”

“Good. Alright.” Glorfindel ran his hand up and down Erestor’s arm. “We said we would be there, so we should make an effort. It’s a little under seven hours from now. If we put my clothes in the laundry by three, and they don’t live too far away, I should be ready in time. We can have that discussion while we wait--I assume you have a washer and dryer here.”

“In the basement.”

“Perfect. That gives us time to talk about things before we see him again.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“And it gives us three hours for this.” Glorfindel leaned over and kissed Erestor’s mouth. After a few more kisses, both men had parted their lips and were running their hands over the bare skin they could find. 

Glorfindel began to slide off the bed to assume the position he had been in when they were in the hallway, but Erestor stopped him. “We still have condoms.”

“We sure do,” confirmed Glorfindel. He looked down to his left at Erestor’s lap to confirm what he guessed. “Ah, to be young again.”

Erestor looked to his right. “Here. Let me help you with that, sexy daddy,” said Erestor as he eased his hand with a little difficulty under the waistband of the pants Glorfindel was wearing. “It appears you are rising to the occasion,” he said as Glorfindel groaned.

“I never thought being old would make someone sexy,” joked Glorfindel as he and Erestor stripped what little they had on, making out while crawling back onto the bed. He grabbed one of the two remaining condoms from the nightstand.

“You’re not old--just older than me.” 

“I need a pet name for you.”

Erestor helped Glorfindel put the condom on and then tossed the wadded up wrapper in the general direction of the waste basket before he presented himself on the bed. “I think those should be organic.”

“Well, there are sheep condoms, you know.”

“Condoms for sheep?”

“No--wait, what are you doing?” questioned Glorfindel as Erestor sat back up and retrieved his phone. 

“Looking...this...up…”

“Seriously?” Glorfindel tilted his head to the side, and then caught sight of the lubricant that was used the night before. He retrieved this while Erestor tapped on the screen and swiped a few times. “You really are looking them up.”

“Trojan even makes them. Why have I never...oh. Oh. Well, they prevent pregnancy, but they don’t prevent STIs, so that’s useless.” Erestor set the phone down again.

“You are most certainly a millennial,” said Glorfindel. 

“Is that bad?”

“I was starting to worry. All of the rest of your habits pointed to solid Gen-X attitudes. Then again, I should appreciate that, really.” Glorfindel motioned to his shrinking erection. “We won't’ have to worry about condoms at all soon.”

“I am uniquely qualified to fix this.” Erestor straddled Glorfindel again and began to slowly lick and kiss along his neck.

“‘Uniquely qualified’?” 

“It’s working, right? My theory was sound,” declared Erestor as he ran his fingertips up and down Glorfindel’s arms. 

Glorfindel grinned. “Little Professor.”

Erestor blushed. “I’m not that little,” he mumbled, but he was smirking.

“No, you’re not--and neither am I.” Glorfindel rocked a little, and Erestor groaned. “Just the Professor, then.”

“You’re going to call me ‘The Professor’ in bed?” 

“Maybe?”

Erestor leaned in and nipped Glorfindel’s ear. “I find that extremely sexy, Sexy Daddy.”

“I find you extremely sexy,” whispered Glorfindel. “Wait, wait--I got it. You can be Professor Sexy.”

After laughing lightly, Erestor massaged Glorfindel’s shoulders for a moment before pushing him down onto the bed. “Professor Sexy says class is now in session.”

“What is our lesson today?” asked Glorfindel bemusedly.

“Proper anal preparation and penetration,” Erestor responded authoritatively.

“Very alliterative,” commended Glorfindel. “The Cliff Notes say insert tab A into slot B.”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t get intimate with Cliff. It’s absolute heartbreak when you get to the exams. Now what you do want to get intimate with is lube.” Erestor rolled off of Glorifndel in order to retrieve the bottle. “This is lube. In fact, this is the best lube,” Erestor said. “That’s because there’s jojoba in it. Now, who can tell me what jojoba does?”

Grinning, Glorfindel stroked himself with one hand to stay hard and raised his arm in the air. “It is anti-inflammatory.”

“Uh...right. Yes, of course,” said Erestor, though it was obvious this was not what he anticipated hearing. “And what else?”

“It has a nutty aroma to it.”

Erestor opened the bottle and sniffed it. “I suppose it does.”

“I assume you are looking for the relaxing properties it has,” offered Glorfindel. “Since that’s what it boasts on the package.” Glorfindel came closer and eased the bottle away from Erestor. “All the better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“Class dismissed,” Erestor said as he situated himself so that Glorfindel could easily prepare and then penetrate him.

“Excuse me, teacher--if I give a presentation on the topic, can I get extra credit?”

Erestor bent his knees and spread his legs a little wider. “Teaching someone how to do something is the best way to reinforce learning.”

Before anything could happen, though, the phone alerted them again. This time, however, it was not a summons from Fingon, but a poorly recorded version of the university’s fight song used during sporting events. “Who the fuck is that?” wondered Erestor as he sat up. Glorfindel whimpered a little, but did not deter Erestor from answering the phone. He did narrow his eyes when he heard Erestor ask, “Yes, Dean King?” Erestor nodded, his eyes widened, and he said, “Most certainly. Just a moment.” 

The mute button was pressed, and Erestor told Glorfindel, “It’s your Dean King. Turgon went to check the greenhouse for you, and there was apparently some damage to the roof and it’s leaking from the storm last night. He wants to speak with you.”

Glorfindel grabbed the phone. “Hello? ...hello?” 

“It’s muted.”

Glorfindel fumbled with the phone. He managed to unmute it, but it switched to speakerphone as well. “Hello?”

“Oh, good. Professor LaFleur, this is Dean King,” came Turgon’s smooth and unworried voice from the other end of the call. “I really hate to disturb you today, but your greenhouse has a hole in the roof and about an inch of water at the west end. Facilities is trying to clear the water out and the interns you have are moving things around, but I thought you would appreciate knowing in case you wanted to come by and assess the damage, especially with the dedication of it next month. I took the liberty of contacting the contractors, because a storm like that should not have caused this sort of wind damage.”

“I will be there as soon as I can,” promised Glorfindel. “Thank you for contacting me.”

“You can ignore the voice messages I left on your phone. I have a meeting at 2 p.m., but otherwise, I will be in my office if you need assistance.”

“Thank you.”

After the call ended, Erestor said, “I guess he’s been looking for you, and he mentioned it to Fingon when he got back there, and Fingon fucking told him where you are.”

“I see.” Glorfindel slid the condom off his flaccid penis and tossed it into the waste bin. “We still need to discuss the Fingon situation, but I need to find my phone, get and uber, and get dressed.”

“I can drive you,” offered Erestor.

“No. If you go over there, with Fingon there--no. Alright, we talk about this now--he still has some sort of attachment,” explained Glorfindel. “I don’t feel you are the same in that regard, but you’ve accepted what he does as normal.”

“Part of it is just concern for my well-being, but I see what you mean,” said Erestor. “Why don’t you at least take my vehicle?”

“I can get a ride. I’ll be fine,” said Glorfindel. “We’ve only really known each other a few days--I’ll feel bad if something happens to it.”

“It’s insured, though. And you’re only going to the campus from here,” said Erestor. “I trusted you to stick your cock up my ass last night; I think I can trust you with my car.”

“That is a beautiful sentiment,” said Glorfindel, “but I think I am understanding the rest of the equation. When you get close to someone, you trust them maybe a little too quickly.”

“So...you’re saying I shouldn’t trust you?” 

By now, Glorfindel was dressed again in his slightly wrinkled and damp clothing. “I just think you go right to instant trust without weighing the situation. And I don’t mean to sound...mean about that. You’re right, it does make it sound like I’m telling you not to trust me,” said Glorfindel as Erestor bowed his head.

“No...no, you’re right. Fingon would agree with you. I know he gets into my business sometimes, but he means well. He’s seen me crash and burn with some other boyfriends in the past. And, yeah, I trusted all of them a little too eagerly. You just...feel different.”

Glorfindel walked back to the bed and leaned down to kiss Erestor on the brow. “I appreciate that. I think you’re a pretty nice guy, too. Alright; my phone is dead, I know you don’t have a charger because I can see you have dedicated yourself to the Apple Regime.” He nodded not only to the phone on the nightstand, but also the ipad charging there.

“Iphones are better than Android phones,” Erestor said without specific explanation.

“Well, if the offer of the ride is still available, we can continue this discussion in the car. But--I just want you to drop me off. Fingon will get to see you tonight; it just makes it weird right now with what he did this morning, and even with him telling his brother where I was,” said Glorfindel.

“I will get dressed. Here; you can read all of his apology texts he sent me while I freshen up.” Erestor tossed the phone on the bed in the direction of Glorfindel.

“Seriously?” Glorfindel looked at the screen. “There’s eight of them!” he exclaimed as he scrolled along the screen. 

“Yes, there are,” confirmed Erestor. “Are you sure you don’t want to cancel the plans with him and Mae tonight?”

“No, I definitely want to meet Mae,” said Glorfindel as he went through the messages. As Erestor was pulling his pants on, Glorfindel asked, “Who’s Saeros?”

Erestor paled. “He mentioned Saeros?”

“Yeah. Twice.” Glorfindel looked up. “Who’s Saeros? Another ex I get to meet?”

“No,” Erestor said abruptly. “Yes, he was an ex, but he’s dead now.”

“Oh...I...I’m sorry,” Glorfindel said numbly.

“I’m not,” Erestor answered. “Saved me the trouble of renewing the restraining order.”

“Oh?”

“He liked to throw things,” said Erestor. “At me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We should go,” said Erestor as he sat down on the bed next to Glorfindel. “I want to get you there before the contractors show up.”

“Thank you.” Glorfindel reached over and took hold of Erestor’s hand. “I had a really nice time with you yesterday, and I hope that despite circumstances we can have a nice time tonight.”

“Do you, um, do you want to come back here tonight after dinner?” asked Erestor.

“Well, I do feel we have unfinished business...but, if I’m coming back here tonight, then maybe you should pick up more condoms on the way home from dropping me off.” 

Erestor smiled and leaned in for a lazy kiss. “Consider it done, Sexy Daddy.”


End file.
